


wouldn't you like to see something strange

by mouthfulofbees (dog_fish)



Series: Halloween Oneshots [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-26 18:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12563820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dog_fish/pseuds/mouthfulofbees
Summary: Atem moved to a new city a month ago. Atem got lost and met a strange boy who smiles a bit too wide to be normal.Atem probably should have paid attention to the warning signs.





	wouldn't you like to see something strange

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd, because i literally left this to the last moment.  
> anyway, happy halloween everyone. Enjoy!

The thing was, he stumbled upon the right street by  _chance_ _._  

He wasn’t even supposed to be out that night – or any night, really, but then again he had never listened to his mother’s dire warnings about waking up in a ditch with a kidney missing – but something about his empty apartment sent restless shivers through his feet, like the last remnants of something nomadic in his blood was urging him to get up and move. That, or the coffee he had drunk a spare hour ago was finally kicking in. Either way, he ended up swiping his keys off the counter, toeing on his shoes, and closing the door without a backward glance. 

Fifteen minutes later, he was lost. 

It was, Atem mused as he kicked through a pile of stray leaves, the most exciting thing to happen to him in recent memory. He tucked his coat closer around himself and shivered slightly as a breeze funneled its way down the darkening street. Moving to a new city in a completely different region of the world had seemed like such a good idea when surrounded by the close heat of summer. He was almost looking forward to the winter months, if only so that he could justify cranking the heat and muffling himself in layers. At least the weather would finally decide to be freezing instead of mincing back and forth. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he turned another corner, wondering if he should call it a night and see if the GPS in his phone was up to the task of leading him back to his apartment. He was getting sick of moving without any direction. 

Atem took a deep breath and stopped as his stomach growled. He could smell something faintly spicy in the air, something like cinnamon, or cloves, and a sweet scent he couldn't identify. The scent became even stronger as he walked, mixed with the musty smell of the next pile of leaves he crunched through. In the distance was a faint buzz that eventually resolved itself in talking and laughter and... music? 

He picked up the pace without really thinking about it, boots scraping against the ground. Two left turns, and the sounds were getting louder, the music more insistent. All he knew was that the next corner, the next turn, and he would find …. find... what? 

Atem stopped abruptly and stared at the deserted, leaf-strewn street that stretched out in front of him before shaking his head. The music rang in his ears before growing fainter.  _What in the entire hell am I_ _doing?_  

His phone was in his pocket. He could find a way home, eat something, and go to bed without crashing someone else's party. Whoever was celebrating was obviously having fun, and there was no need for him to show up without an invitation. He turned around and told himself to move. 

There was absolutely no reason that he should keep going. It was probably a bad idea, would most likely get him even more lost, on a night that was threatening to dip down into chilly. Atem bit his lip. 

Light flickered, and, eyebrows drawing together, he turned toward it without a second thought.  

The alleyway in front of him, on the left, was faintly,  _invitingly_  illuminated. He drew closer. The music was faint, but still there, weaving dreamlike through the air. 

He turned the corner. 

Ahead of him was what looked like a row of storefronts, light spilling out of the windows and doors, painting the sidewalk and street in stripes of bright color. There were voices layering over each other, with the clink of glasses and the deep, steady beat of club music. Tiny paper lanterns were strung up across the tops of the buildings, crossing over the street and lending the entire picture the air of a festival. That's right – it was Halloween night, wasn't it? 

Atem couldn't see any people, but there were shadows moving across the lighted doorways, stretching out onto the street. He was not alone. 

The wind blew against his back.  

 _First, you must never go searching for them._  

He stepped forward, leaving behind the empty street he had come from. 

The first building looked like it couldn't decide if it wanted to be a bar or a café, from what he could see from the outside. He peered into one of the long windows, squinting past the electric candles placed on the windowsill. There were people moving inside, mostly in shadow from the understated lighting, and a long counter that ran against the far wall. On the other side of the room was an empty stage lit up with aging spotlights. Black and orange paper streamers hung from the ceiling, along with tiny fuzzy bats on strings. They were tacky, in an endearing sort of way. 

The letters painted directly on the glass of the door were light green and completely incomprehensible. Atem blinked at them for a few seconds, wondering if he was seeing things, before shaking his head. If someone wanted to write in a strange font, that was their problem. Either way, there was warm, scented air wafting from the propped-open doorway, so he stopped giving a fuck. 

There was a quiet ambience to the place that seemed to encourage hushed voices and tired smiles in direct counterpoint to the bass thumping Atem could hear from the street. Each table was covered in cheap vinyl tablecloths patterned with autumn leaves and set with mismatched plates and chairs. None of the tables were full, but all were occupied. He headed for the counter. 

A few eyes followed him, but to his relief, most of the people seemed to be preoccupied with their own conversations. He took a seat on a padded stool at the very end of the counter, and nodded at the person behind it, who nodded back but made no attempt to serve him anything, or even head in his direction. Atem tried not to hunch his shoulders.  _It's a bar. Or café, or whatever, it's public. They have no reason to throw you out._  

His train of thought was interrupted when the dark-clothed person to his right set their drink down onto the countertop with a heavy, glassy  _clink_ and turned in his direction. 

Dark eyes looked him up and down, and Atem could hardly tear his gaze away from them to eye the person right back. 

It was a boy, or a young man- someone in that place in between youth and actual adulthood that Atem himself was still muddling around in. Pale golden bangs framed a sweet face, but what really drew attention was the too-sharp grin that was turned his way. Teeth glinted in the slight light, a bit  _too_ pointed to be entirely natural. 

Atem opened his mouth to voice something- a question, a remark, anything- but the young man beat him to it. 

 _"_ Hello," he said, grin widening impossibly farther. "What's your name?" His voice was quiet, in deference to the atmosphere, but Atem heard him perfectly. His eyes gleamed dark purple as he leaned closer. Atem swallowed, suddenly far more nervous than he had been before. 

He was about to answer when a thought tugged at the back of his mind, a half-remembered warning.  

 _Don't give them your name._  

He changed his reply on a whim.  

"...Yami," Atem said. "Call me Yami." 

The grin faded into a smile. "Yami, then. Welcome." The young man made an elegant gesture that encompassed the entire bar. Several heads turned in their direction, but quickly looked away. "Now. Can I interest you in a drink?" His eyes flashed again.  _Too bright._  

Atem fought the instinct that prodded at him to lean back, to get up and walk away.  _It's fine. It's fine. He's being friendly._ When was the last time someone had been friendly to him? He settled farther into his seat, choosing his words carefully. "I would appreciate that." He smiled at the man in a way that only felt slightly forced. 

The man nodded, still smiling back, and suddenly a tall glass of something dark was placed in between them. Atem had the presence of mind to nod at the bartender, who nodded back without speaking and soundlessly glided away. He hadn't even known she was near enough to  _hear_ the two of them.  

The glass was cold underneath his fingers. The young man picked up with own drink, something lighter but strong enough to sting Atem's nose when it was moved closer toward him.  

"Happy Halloween, Yami." Atem stared at the glass held in front of him before getting the hint and hastily raising his own glass.  

"Happy Halloween," he murmured back, and their drinks met with a light  _tap._  

Atem brought his lips to the rim of his glass, smelling sweet apples, but something warned him back.  

 _Don't drink their drinks._  

 _Don't eat their food._  

He watched as his companion drained the rest of his drink, eyes not leaving his. 

The grin was back. The man set his glass on the counter and tucked a curl of hair behind a vaguely pointed ear. Atem tore his eyes away and settled his gaze on the counter. 

He could feel when the man leaned in again. "So,  _Yami,"_ he said softly. "Why are you here?" 

Atem glanced up and saw nothing condescending in those eyes. "You actually want to know?" 

"Yup." His head tilted. "You interest me." 

Atem stared. "I ...do?" was all he could think of to ask. 

"Well, yeah," the man breathed, still grinning. "Is that unusual?" 

 _Yes,_ Atem wanted to say.  _Yes, it is_ _._ Instead, he remained fumbled for an answer. "I was just... wandering." 

"Wandering. I get it." The man didn't sound disappointed. If anything, he sounded  _intrigued._ Atem briefly allowed himself to hope. "In that case, would you be up for wandering some more?" He held out a hand. 

Atem stared at him, stared at the hand, then looked away, gaze sweeping the room. He saw several heads turn away before he could meet their eyes. He looked back at the man in front of him, who found him interesting, who didn't seem to care that he hadn't drunk his drink, or that his words were stilted and uncomfortable. 

The man was waiting patiently for an answer. Atem took a breath and then it was as if someone else was inside his body. Someone else smiled at the man and took his hand. "Of course," he said, and didn't know if it was him who said it. 

 

* * *

 

The street was cooler than before, the wind almost cold. Atem inhaled and felt something inside of him settle.  

The man tugged on his hand. "Let's get out of the cold." Atem felt himself nodding even before he finished the sentence, and willingly followed him into the second building on the street. 

He had to blink a few times to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light. This was definitely a bar. There were shelves filled with multicolored bottles lining the wall behind the long wooden counter, lit from behind with icy neon light. The thumping music sounded louder now, as if it was coming from just next door, deep and close.  

The blue-tinted shadows next to the wall looked warm and inviting, almost velvety. The music thrummed in his bones, and Atem felt himself sway toward the far wall, closer to the beat. 

The man's hand on his wrist suddenly tightened and pulled him away, closer to the bar. Atem blinked in the blue light and shook his head, still reeling. He took a seat on the stool next to his companion, who immediately struck up a quiet conversation with the bartender. They glanced at him, but Atem looked away. 

There were lights above the bar, pink neon writing that glowed hazily. Atem couldn't even begin to make out what it said.  

A clink of glass brought his attention to the polished wooden surface in front of him, where the bartender – a woman in a white dress – had set a martini glass down, filled with something orange and cloudy. Atem could see a sugar cube melting into the liquid. He smiled at the bartender and politely didn't comment on how he could see straight through her and into the shelves behind. She smiled back at him and ghosted away. 

Atem turned to the young man next to him and found his gaze lingering over attractive features, even if his teeth were still too prominent, his eyes too bright, his ears too sharp. The man cocked his head and watched him right back, a challenge lingering in his bright, bright eyes. 

 _Don't give them what they want._  

 _Fuck it,_ Atem thought, and leaned in. 

His mouth tasted sweet and sticky, like fruit juice, and Atem deepened the kiss, chasing the flavor. He felt a hand on the back of his head, and then the man was pulling away, licking his lips and eyeing him with delight.  

"Well, now," he said, and the music got louder. "This changes some things." 

Atem leaned back in his seat, feeling floaty and languid. "Yes, it does," he said, and knew it to be true. 

The man smiled. "What's your name?" he asked again, and held out a drink that Atem could have sworn wasn't in his hand a second ago. The man nodded at Atem's own drink, and he picked it up, feeling the slick glass between his fingers. 

The glasses clinked together, and they both smiled into the dark. 

"My name is Atem," said Atem, and he drank. 

 

* * *

 

Atem didn't remember how they left the bar. For all he knew – for all he  _felt –_ he could have just stepped into the shadows and melted straight through the wall. 

They were in the third building down the street, the source of the music. The tune was familiar, and rattled through his body, but the words were strange and hypnotic. 

The young man was with him, one arm wrapped around his elbow, dragging him through the door. 

Memories came in snapshots. 

Atem remembered trying to sit down at one of the tables in the corner, before being gently but firmly guided to another seat. When he looked back at the seat he would have taken, he could have sworn he saw a shadow, before it flickered and vanished. 

He remembered a tall man dressed in white, with strange eyeliner that crept across his cheeks, and a girl grinning in his face. 

He remembered orange strobe lights, flashing in the corners of the club. There were yellow lights mixed in, moving and drifting around like fireflies, alighting on dancers' limbs before either fizzling out or taking flight once again. 

He remembered his companion sliding away for a bare second and, turning his head, caught sight of him talking and laughing with an old woman at the bar who wielded a mortar and pestle, setting down drinks in front of seats both full and empty. 

There was a boy with golden hair and golden eyes that smiled at him, his mouth closed but not quite hiding the canines that peeked out. The boy was pulled away by a laughing girl who smiled back at him, teeth flashing and eyes milky. 

There was a tiny stage in the center of the dance floor, crowded with dancers dressed in red and orange and white, lit up from above with yellow spotlights that shimmered with heat, while the rest of the club danced around them in a circle. 

 _Balefire,_ Atem thought, and didn't know where the word came from. 

Somehow, he ended up in one of the corners by the bar, the young man back at his side and taking two glasses from a girl in a red hoodie, handing him a drink that smoked and sparked. Atem clicked his glass against the man's own, and drank deep, the liquid popping and fizzing on his tongue. 

He remembered watching the man talk at him, felt his mouth opening to answer, but all he could hear was the beat of the music, throbbing in time with his heartbeat and vibrating though his feet. 

He drank again, and remembered flashes of different colors, pink and blue and red and orange, being dragged in and out of doorways, the taste of apples and nuts on his tongue and the feeling of a hand in his, fingers cool but steadily growing warmer. He gripped that hand tight and vowed never to let go. 

 

* * *

 

Atem opened his eyes. 

He immediately shut them as the sun shone violently into his pupils. His ears rang, head throbbing in time with a tune that slipped away the moment he tried to recall it. He groaned and brought a trembling hand to his head. 

 _What the hell?_  

He rolled over and tried not to be sick as he cracked his eyes open again. The first thing he saw was a dusty tarp three inches from his nose, and lots and lots of smashed glass. 

He sat up. 

He was in a building – if it could even be called a building, it barely had a roof. Early morning sunlight filtered in through the holes in the walls, illuminating tarps covering what looked like tables and chairs, some of them broken and sagging to the dirty floor. There looked to have been plate glass windows at some point, their remains scattered across the ground and glinting in the light.  _Where the_ hell  _am I?_  

Atem brought his fingers to his lips, and the previous night came flooding back. 

 _Music, dancing, rules broken and gifts accepted._ _His name._  

Atem shook his head and had to grit his teeth as his brain threatened to wobble out of his skull.  _Enough._  

He was lying right in front of the door. Atem leaned forward and saw a long row of decrepit storefronts, some of them boarded up, others covering in tape and tarps. He was in the very last building along the street.  

Atem's joints creaked as he levered himself upright. His muscles complained at every motion, and he hissed at the pain. 

He could still taste fire on his tongue, from the last drink he had had with the man he had met in the very first bar. 

 _I didn't even ask his name._  

Atem shook his head at himself and staggered home. 

 

* * *

 

Some months passed – maybe one, maybe three. Maybe six. Atem didn't keep track.  

He went to work and he ate and slept and some nights he would go out and retrace his steps, looking for music that beat its way through the air, the smell of cinnamon, and a sharp, shiny smile in the shadows. He found nothing, every damn time. 

 _Don't go looking for them._  

 _Fuck that,_ Atem thought, and looked anyway. 

It was a winter morning when he staggered into work, treading snow and shedding layers upon layers. He had been right about the cold, god damn it. He stamped snow from his boots and headed for his desk. 

"Mr. Sennen?" 

Atem lifted his head. His boss stared back at him. It took a moment for him to respond. "Yes?" 

"I have a new coworker I'd like you to meet." 

Atem had to process the sentence twice before it clicked. "Of course." He stood up as his boss stepped to the side. 

Atem froze. 

It was him. 

The young man tucked blond bangs behind his ear and held out his hand, a grin splitting across his face. Atem couldn't decide if his teeth were as sharp as they looked. 

He clasped The man's hand, and it was as warm as it had been when he'd let go. 

"My name is Yugi.  _Lovely_ to meet you, Atem. Or should I call you Yami?" 

Atem was sure he'd answered back, but he'd be damned if he knew what he had said. 

 _Never let them draw you back in._  

Whatever it was, it made the man's –  _Yugi's_ _-_ eyes flash, purple and as bright as the sun. Yugi's hand tightened on his own, and Atem knew he wasn't letting go. 

Atem swallowed, and gave in. 

 


End file.
